Seeing is Believing (39 page)

Zhou scowled, then bit Lóng's neck, digging his teeth in painfully. Lóng snickered, and dug his fingernails lightly into Zhou's ribs. "Don't start with me, child."

"Don't call me child," Zhou muttered. "And I don't want to go."

"It's for the good of the clan," Lóng intoned with a deep voice, his chest shaking as he tried not to laugh.

"That's so not funny anymore," Zhou told him seriously, but he let go nonetheless. "Come on then, manservant. Help me change for the dinner."

Lóng snickered. "I was." He tugged Zhou's tunic off, leaving him in just a simple shirt. "See? Now you merely need to put on the dinner outfit."

"Sneaky," Zhou replied dryly, letting Lóng lead him over to the closet.

"What can I say? I've had many years to learn the art of 'sneak.'" Lóng smirked. Zhou shook his head and let Lóng pull him into the first of the three tunics he'd have to wear for the formal dinner.

"Zhou, stop fidgeting." Zhou's mother scolded, tugging his formal jacket straight.

"But mother—" Zhou protested, twisting away from her fretful hands.

"Don't but mother me, young man." She frowned critically at him. "You'll do. Don't dishonor us with your antics, Zhou. All you have to do is sit quietly for an hour."

"I know." Zhou frowned back at her. "Can't this wait until tomorrow? Xun and I were going to—"

"Zhou." His mother sighed, tucking her thick hair behind her ears. "Is it too much to ask for you to just follow the old traditions once in a while? I know you think it's foolish, but we let you get out of it most of the time."

"I know." Zhou sagged, resigned. "I'm going, I'm going."

"Thank you." She smiled and kissed his cheek. "Good luck."

"Thanks." Zhou muttered, resisting the urge to run a hand over his tightly-bound hair as he walked towards the guardian's garden. This was going to be the most boring hour of his life.

"Trees, boring. Altar, boring." Zhou muttered, sprawling on the grass lazily. What a way to spend his sixteenth birthday. At least dinner would be good. "Sky, boring. This entire thing, boring."

"Is it really that boring?"

"Gah." Zhou sat up quickly, his eyes fixing immediately on the young man lounging against a tree across the wide green. The shrine to the guardian was one of the larger ones in the area, with a small yard and a small wood. It had a small, ornate altar too, but only the family had access to the area.

"Who're you and how did you get in here?" Zhou demanded crossly. He was so close too. He only had fifteen or so minutes left, after all. The question only got a laugh, and Zhou pushed hastily to his feet as the stranger pushed away from his tree and crossed the grass between them slowly.

"You're the youngest son. Zhou, if I remember correctly. You never come out here, so I'm assuming you think the guardian thing is a load of hogwash?" The young man stopped, a smug smile on his lips as he studied Zhou lazily.

"You shouldn't assume things." Zhou snapped back, discomfited by the stranger's proximity. "Why are you out here?"

"I live out here." He had a pretty smile, even if the insufferable tilt to it made Zhou want to give the man a punch like he'd give to Xun when
he
was being a brat.

"Right. Next you'll be telling me you're my family's guardian, brought back from the dead," Zhou said flippantly, trying not to notice the man's dark eyes, or the way they seemed to flash a reddish color when the sun caught them.

"My name is Lóng." The smile was back again, and Zhou scowled.

"Sure it is." Zhou shook his head. "You should go." He dropped back down to the ground disinterestedly. "If my parents find you out here, they'll be pissed."

"Somehow I doubt that," Lóng murmured, watching with amusement as Zhou stretched out, tucking his hands behind his head. "How much do you know of your family's history?"

"Enough to fool the tutor." Zhou snorted, then eyed him warily. "Don't tell my mother that."

Lóng laughed, then followed his example and sat on the grass. "The youngest sons were typically offered up as a sacrifice to the dragon."

"You're not the dragon," Zhou pointed out. "And they haven't done that for a few centuries at least."

"That's because they were all fat, ugly little brats," Lóng muttered, then grinned, showing off sharp teeth. Zhou blinked, wondering if he was seeing things.

"So when they're not?" Zhou prompted, curious. "Because my mother said nothing about being sacrificed. And it would throw off her plans for tonight's dinner."

Lóng laughed. "And we wouldn't want that. The woman's a right wretch, coming out here cursing the guardian for failing to protect her precious dinner plans. The incident with Lady Chang's dress?"

Zhou snickered. "I heard about that one for a week after."

"I still, apparently, have yet to live that down." Lóng grinned, and Zhou frowned, because really, those teeth
were
rather sharp looking. Sitting up, he crawled across the grass on his knees, peering at Lóng's face intently. "Open your mouth."

Lóng laughed, and bared his teeth.

"Holy shit," Zhou swore under his breath. "Are those real?"

Lóng snickered, and leaned across the scant inches separating them. "Yes." Lóng practically
purred
the word, and Zhou flushed, sitting back.

"It has to be fake," Zhou protested weakly.

"I'm a dragon." Lóng winked, looking completely at ease. "Would you like more proof?"

Zhou nodded, curious now. So the family guardian
did
exist. He wondered if his parents saw Lóng like this every time they came out here. Lóng smirked and brushed his long, dark hair out of the way, showing off his ears. They tapered to a point and were brushed a dark red along the top.

Zhou sat back up, peering intently. "Can I touch 'em?"

Lóng snickered, showing off his teeth again. "Maybe if you're good."

Zhou flushed. "So … you're going to make my parents sacrifice me?"

"Perhaps," Lóng drawled, reaching out and tapping the end of Zhou's nose with a sharp fingernail. "I think, first, I shall require you come see me … hmm, twice a week. For an hour, at least, each day."

"What?" Zhou exclaimed. "Are you kidding?"

"Nope." Lóng smirked. "Then we'll decide whether or not I want you as this generation's sacrifice."

Zhou grumbled, annoyed. "Fine. But my hour's up, I'm leaving."

Lóng laughed, reaching out and forcing him to sit back down with two warm hands on his shoulders. Zhou made a face. "What?"

"You should show proper respect." Lóng smirked, and before Zhou could curse the damn dragon again, he was being kissed. Zhou jerked back, startled, and toppled over backwards. Lóng laughed, and managed to stand up gracefully, offering a hand up to Zhou.

"That's proper respect?" Zhou grumbled, letting Lóng pull him to his feet.

"No, it's proper respect when you kiss back." Lóng's lips curled into a smile and he let go of Zhou's hand slowly. "Go off to your dinner now, Zhou. Your mother will be waiting."

"Yeah, yeah." Zhou brushed off the seat of his outfit, and turned back towards the shrine doors. "Though—" Zhou turned, a few steps away. "Isn't this incest?"

Lóng blinked at him, then burst out laughing.

"It's a valid question," Zhou defended, tugging his formal tunic straight. He was so not wearing this the next time he visited the dragon.

"It's hilarious. Ask your mother." Lóng bared his teeth, turning away while still shaking his head. Zhou rolled his eyes, and turned back towards the house again. He wouldn't ask his mother—she'd either have a stroke or tell him to read a book. Or have a stroke and then tell him to read a book. Zhou grinned, ducking inside. Who knew that family traditions could be fun?

"Do you remember?" Zhou started, wiggling his toes thoughtfully. "When we were at the Ristain's?"

"I remember a lot about it," Lóng replied indulgently, lazily watching Zhou's feet propped in his lap. A pair of stiff shoes and nearly clean, bright white socks littered the yard beside them. Zhou was stretched out across the grass in the opposite direction, his feet propped on Lóng's thigh.

"Specifically, Lady Meredith," Zhou continued, ignoring Lóng as he stared at the cloudless blue sky above. "The girl whose family proposed."

"Yes." Lóng's voice wasn't as lazy, but Zhou still ignored him, his toes curling as a cool breeze drifted past.

"Well, her mother sent a petition to my parents last week." Zhou startled as Lóng wrapped his fingers around his left foot.

"For?" Lóng inquired blandly, watching Zhou with a smirk.

"Lady Meredith is persistent in her admiration," Zhou muttered. "Give me my foot back, dragon."

"You put it there." Lóng pointed out, carefully drawing a fingertip along the bottom of Zhou's foot. Zhou squirmed, twisting his ankle. "I'm not a footrest."

"You sat down next to my feet." Zhou made a face, fighting the urge to laugh as Lóng repeated the motion. "Ah!" Zhou's toes curled tight. "What if they don't come here first?"

"They always come here first," Lóng pointed out rationally, and Zhou propped himself up on his elbows.

"Not always. They didn't about Jia's wedding."

"Jia?" Lóng repeated, mystified. He let his hands fall away from Zhou's foot, and Zhou took the opportunity to sit up properly, scooting across the grass to sit closer to Lóng.

"My cousin." Zhou eyed him skeptically. "Are you sure you're my family guardian?"

"Oh, her." Lóng smirked. "Wait. How did you know that?" Lóng asked suspiciously, snagging Zhou's chin between his forefinger and thumb. Zhou blinked at him.

"Because I'm not stupid." Zhou rolled his eyes, jerking his chin out of Lóng's grip. "I researched you."

"Really," Lóng drawled, his eyes flashing dangerously bright.

"To make sure you weren't some groundskeeper playing a trick on me," Zhou maintained, watching Lóng warily. "What if they don't?"

"Then they will suffer my wrath," Lóng replied darkly, his eyes narrowing. "I have claimed you as my sacrifice, as is my right."

"Lóng." Zhou sighed, exasperated. "Stop being …"

"A dragon?" Lóng snickered, standing up on his knees and shuffling closer. Zhou rolled his eyes.

"No. Insufferable. And how come you never get grass stains? Mother was yelling about not disturbing the sanctity of the shrine because—oof!" Zhou huffed out a breath, wondering how he'd explain grass stains on his back, Lóng's warm weight heavy as the dragon settled contentedly on his thighs.

"Ow, you know," Zhou muttered, poking Lóng in the chest. Lóng snickered, leaning down to cage Zhou's face between his arms.

"Not too much ow," Lóng purred before nipping gently at Zhou's lower lip. "You're mine, Zhou." Lóng kissed his lips fleetingly. "I will not allow you to be married off, no matter what the circumstances. The woman can pine herself to death and I would still not allow her near you."

"Lóng." Zhou rolled his eyes, but Lóng cut off anything else he might've said, kissing him possessively. Zhou was more than happy to go with it, wrapping his arms around Lóng's neck and kissing him back. He'd let Lóng take care of it—the dragon was good at chasing off potential admirers.

Xun tapped respectfully on Lord Liang's study door, shifting nervously. It took only a moment before the door opened, Lady Liang stepping back with a ruffle of skirts. She looked faintly surprised to see him, and Xun was surprised to see her here, too. Still, maybe that was better.

"Good evening, ma'am." Xun bowed quickly. "Sorry to trouble you, but have you seen Zhou?"

"You mean he's not with you?" Lady Liang seemed even more startled at this news. "I assumed you two were off doing … whatever it is that you do."

"He missed meeting me." Xun shrugged. "I thought you'd commandeered him."

"He missed dinner. Come in." She moved aside, letting Xun slip inside. "Ye-Seng, did you hear that?"

"Hmm?" Lord Liang looked up from the ship model spread across the table in front of him. "Hear what, dear?"

"Your son is missing," Lady Liang replied fondly, taking the miniature paintbrush from her husband's hand. "The youngest."

"Zhou?" Ye-Seng looked up, looking puzzled. "But where would he go? Ah, hello, Xun. He's not with you then?"

"No, sir," Xun replied, grinning.

"And he missed dinner," Lady Liang repeated. "I suppose we should check with the kitchen staff, to see if he's been in to eat."

"I can do that." Xun volunteered.

"Alright. Come back and let us know," Ye-Seng decreed, deftly plucking the paintbrush back from his wife. Xun nodded and ducked from the room quickly. Zhou's parents were nice enough, but it was awkward hanging around them without Zhou there.

*~*~*

"The cook she hasn't seen Zhou in a few days, and she's always there." Xun frowned, slightly worried now, because it wasn't like Zhou to miss dinner and skip the kitchens. And if Zhou was up to something—not that he'd been up to much since he'd gotten back from that ambassadorial trip—he would've definitely included Xun.